Deceive me
by 25Stella27
Summary: "Didn't it occur to you why you couldn't prove my innocence?" John's eyes looked right into the ones the Consulting Detective, challenging. After a few seconds Sherlock shock his head as though he hoped to get rid of the conclusion he must have come to this way. "The only reason you couldn't prove my innocence is that I've done it. I'm a murderer, Sherlock."
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**8th September, 2017**

**An office in North London**

It was raining. A typical London autumn rain, though of course, there was no time of year, when rain would be surprising. John Watson looked up to the window, wondering how the drops would feel like when running down his body, when slowly drenching his cloths. It had been a small eternity since he had felt that.

"You have spent the last twelve years in prison. It is only natural that it will take you time to readjust."

Readjust. Wasn't this exactly the word his therapist had used all these years ago? He tried to think back at the time when he had returned from Afghanistan but it seemed awfully far away. He tried to recall the sun burning on his skin, but he couldn't. Instead he could feel the cold water of the badly tempered prison shower. Yes, he needed to readjust.

"What's so funny about that?"

Apparently, he had unconsciously twisted his lips into a smile. It couldn't have been a joyful one, though. The last time he had truly smiled had been another eternity ago.

"Nothing," John said quickly. "It's simply that I was told exactly the same, when I came back from Afghanistan."

"You've been a soldier?"

He stared down at his fingers, which were drawing small circles on the old wood of the desk.

"You already know; it's all in my file."

"I didn't read it."

He looked up at her, surprised.

"So you don't even know what I was arrested for…?"

"I never read the files," she declared proudly. And then she continued, leaning closer, her eyes locking with John's. "I want to see you for who you are and not for whom you've been. Your former crimes don't matter to me. I think you should be allowed a completely new start, don't you agree?"

He wanted to tell her that this– no matter how good her intentions might be- was not changing anything. That even if she didn't know of his crimes, everyone else did.

He wanted to tell her that he didn't have the strength to begin again, even if he'd wanted to.

But what he said at last was "Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

Are you aware of what will happen tomorrow?

10th September, 2017

Diogenes Club

"You are aware of what will happen tomorrow?"

Mycroft watched his brother closely. It had been some time since he had last seen Sherlock in person, though he still followed most of his steps on CCTV. He wondered if he would ever consider Sherlock grown up enough to stop checking on him, but the duty of an older brother was not easily omitted.

Sherlock returned his look unblinkingly, his expression not giving away any emotion.

"Sherlock, I know I should feel honoured that you bothered to attend this meeting at all, but just the tiniest bit of cooperation would be helpful to get it over with more quickly!"

Mycroft knew his voice was slightly angered. There were more important matters to attend to; the Foreign Secretary of Germany had been waiting for his call for almost two days now.

The younger Holmes rolled his eyes. "Of course. I am fully aware of the fact that John Watson is going to be released from prison tomorrow. I just don't see the point in discussing the matter with you."

Mycroft leaned back in his armchair, pleased that his brother had finally chosen to talk.

Maybe they would be able to settle the matter quickly after all, even though Sherlock did not seem too adept to talk to him. He was used to it though: they hadn't had a real conversation for decades. He sighed, fighting the urge to glance as his clock as he knew, Sherlock would notice. Maybe he could phone Steinmeier from the car... His eyes focused back on Sherlock. He needed to determine something first, though.

"You're not planning on doing anything... stupid, are you?"

Now that he'd reached the actual purpose of this appointment, Mycroft eyed his brother warily, looking for any twitching muscles or change in his rhythm of breathing, the only signs that could possibly give Sherlock's feelings away .

"The term 'stupid' doesn't suggest I'm planning it, does it?"

Mycroft sighed. "You know very well what I mean. Any new attempts to clear his name, investigations... I don't want to be confronted with a commissioner telling me you were manipulating testimonies and witnesses again, Sherlock!"

Sherlock scoffed. "I hardly manipulated anything. I just pointed out that it is _impossible_ to see the river from where she claimed to have been standing. But why would I try such things anyway? I don't care about any of this. And if I did, don't you think I would have acted earlier?"

Mycroft's eyes rested on Sherlock for a while. Back when Sherlock was a teenager, Mycroft had been superb at reading Sherlock, had known the black haired boy's emotions even better than Sherlock had known them himself, but that had changed. Sherlock had gotten better at concealing his emotions and Mycroft had not spend enough time with him to be able to read his body language flawlessly. He could guess though.

"I know that you think you wouldn't care. You're even convinced so. But emotions are quite tricky, Sherlock. They can easily take the better of you... Besides, didn't you once say that John Watson was your only friend?"

"No", Sherlock said. "No, I think I put it differently."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. You said you didn't have FRIENDS but just had one. I suppose you weren't referring to me?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Not that I'd put spying on your own brother beyond you, Mycroft, but I wouldn't have thought it was a 24/7 observation..."

Some years ago, Sherlock's accusing tone would have hurt him, but he was long past it. Now Mycroft wasn't even annoyed anymore. It had become part of their relationship, just as Mycroft searching for Sherlock's face on CCTV had become part of it.

"It wasn't. That's just something we found on Moriarty's records."

"Which you trust to be reliable?"

Mycroft ignored the remark as well as the raised eyebrow.

"Just make sure you stay focused, Sherlock. I suppose I could find some interesting case to distract you..."

Sherlock gave a curt nod, but Mycroft knew he wasn't expressing his agreement.

Then, the Younger Holmes rose to his feet.

He had already reached the door, when Mycroft called him back: "Are you going to contact him?"

Sherlock hesitated. "I haven't in the last twelve years. Why would I do it now?"

But Mycroft took this as a 'yes'. There were hundreds of reasons why his brother would contact John Watson, and it wasn't just that he had been the only one Sherlock had ever cared about. No. He had also been the one case his brother hadn't been able to solve.


	3. Chapter 3

**The trouble to come - Gregory Lestrade**

**10th September, 2017**

**New Scotland Yard**

When Detective Inspector Lestrade arrived at New Scotland Yard, he was already waited for.

"You know what will happen tomorrow?" Anderson asked as soon as Lestrade had passed through security.

The DI shook his head, trying to find a way to hold his coffee-to-go without burning his fingers.

Anderson's question confused him in some way; normally his job was about things that had already happened rather than those, which were going to.

"John Watson will be released from prison."

Lestrade dropped his coffee, spreading the hot liquid all over himself. Lucky enough, most went on his jacket, which was waterproof.

"Wasn't he sentenced to, like, fifteen years?" Lestrade finally asked, whilst trying to clean his anorak with a napkin.

"Good behaviour" Anderson shrugged. "No one's serving their full sentence lately..."

Lestrade nodded. He realized the trial was longer ago than he had first thought. Had it really been twelve years?

Suddenly, something struck him.

"What about Sherlock? Does he know?"

After John Watson's arrest he had stopped working with the Consulting Detective on a regular basis, since the authorities didn't approve of an outsider taking in a police's investigation, yet Mycroft had still brought his brother in a few times to 'distract him,' as he had put it.

"Probably", Anderson shrugged. "It's been in the newspaper..."

He handed Lestrade this day's print flipped open to page 5.

It wasn't a big article, occupying no more than a quarter of the page. Lestrade browsed it quickly; it merely reviewed the trial, which had gotten a fair amount of media attention, yet in the last paragraph, there was a note about John Watson being about to be released.

Release dates usually weren't made public, but as Lestrade asked whether it had been investigated who had given it to the press,

Anderson just shrugged. "Don't think there's a need to. It's not like they've put it on the front page..."

Lestrade nodded with a small sigh. Anderson was right- the note probably wouldn't get much attention and there were currently more important matters going around, what with an attempted attack on a MP. "Anything else?"

Anderson shook his head and left, though when he reached the door Lestrade thought he heard him mutter 'I wonder what our favourite psychopath will do now,' but he didn't bother to call him back.

As soon as Lestrade was sure Anderson was out of earshot, he reached for his phone. He was slightly concerned that he knew the number he was about to dial by heart.

For a moment, he hesitated, his hand lingering above the keypad. Then he sighed, and punched in the numbers.

His call was answered immediately, just as usual. Lestrade took a deep breath. "Mr Holmes? I sup-"

He was cut off mid-word.

"You're calling because of John Watson." As always with Mycroft this was rather a statement than a question. "I actually wanted to speak to you concerning this topic myself..."

At the end of the conversation (to which Lestrade hadn't contributed more than some 'hmm's and immediately cut off attempts of protest) the DI wondered why he had called the older Holmes brother rather than turn on his heel as soon as he'd learned about the trouble this affair was causing.


End file.
